Coincidences
by Almond Luver
Summary: A story of pure, unscheduled coincidences. Characters from all of Yeo Ji Chung's series.
1. Angel: Kaireku

Angel

Part One: Kaireku (Cae-reh-coo): Lower Egypt

Lovely.

Something he would never get, yet he absolutely adored. .

A rose. A stunningly white, pure rose.

The boy felt his heartbeat in his ears.

Simply gorgeous.

Two weeks now, he had been running away from the shack to see this flower. It was so beautiful, so heart achingly white. Amazing.

Not that the boy wasn't a scientific wonder himself. Infact, he was quiet famous for his extraordinary looks. His short white hair was messily cut into straight side bangs –while the rest of his hair was fuzzy-framing the outline of his pale face perfectly. Underneath the bangs were sharp, piercing eyes; one a lazy hazel and the other the menacing color of dark blood. He was tall and slim, his skin was like milk- smooth and fine- and his sharp features were always filled with lust; from the athlete's legs, broken white finger nails, to the sharp, crooked mouth. His teeth were aligned and perfectly straight with slight fangs curling gently at the sides. His face expression was sternly fixed to a monotonous, bored look, and when something annoyed him, he bared his teeth every so slightly- clearly out of unconscious instinct.

Indeed, he wasn't a normal child.

Rumor had it that he was a child born into death, but not much was known about this peculiar boy. He had a sister, some said, and he lived in 'the shack'- a small, shaggy house that people believed was 'haunted'.

No one knew much about the albino until the day he began to stop at the flower shop.

He came at exactly the same time and exactly the same spot every day. Some people came to the shop at that time to purposely see him. Others bumped into him on the way out and were in daze for a week.

But nobody knew why. Nobody cared enough to actually try and find out what the boy was looking at. Not that it mattered, really. To adults he was merely a strange, pitiful boy checking out flowers for a girl he liked. For children, he was just a freak show to be ignored.

It didn't matter where he came from, and frankly, he didn't care either.

He only cared about the rose and how white it was.

White. So white.

The boy fingered the delicate petals on the rose carefully, barely touching the smooth substance as he let his fingers swim freely. He gasped as he felt the rose twisting softly under his touch.

Then the boy would abruptly stand up and leave.

Usually he was seen wandering around mindlessly.

But today, he had a destination.


	2. Designer Shoes: Ira, Shikra, and D&A

**Hey everyone ;)**

**Guess writing Kaireku first caught everyone's attention? No, thegoldenpen13, as much as I would have loved to, I didn't drag Kaireku himself over and make him write the whole thing. The first chapter was… a matter of mere imagination, I'd like to say. I agree with Nana chan, Kaireku **_**is**_** indeed awesome, and the sexy hottie bunny, I don't think I'll be writing him anymore, because though I've somehow put together his appearance in the story, I can't write anymore about him. It's all I know. **

**And for the pacific coast, I'm glad you enjoyed. Enjoy this chapter for me too. **

**Signed with kisses~**

**Almond Luver**

**Part two:** Shikra (_Sheek ra_), A&D (_D&A_), Irakene (_Ira_):

**Designer Shoes**

_New Hartford, Connecticut_

"CAN TOO!"

"No."

"I AM ABSOLUTELY SURE!"

Promptly, the answer came. "No."

"YES! YES YES YES!"

"No."

Weakly: "...No?..."

"No."

"WHY? WHY, SHIKRA, WHY NO?"

A&D growled as he sat up from his side of the couch. "**Shut. The. Fuck. Up**," he spat, to the two blond teens who sat bickering in front of him about god-knows-what. Well, one sat bickering. The other repeated one word over and over again in a strangely assuring, gentle voice. Then again, the calm one wasn't blonde. Silver and Emerald eyes were set upon him.

The green set belonged to Irakene Laem (everyone called her Ira) who was definitely the more annoying of the two. But then again, she _was_ attractive. She had long, golden silk strands of hair that curled and reached her thighs, and large, beautiful emerald eyes that seemed to pierce right through you when she looked at you in a clear, glassy sort of way. Like a doll, one of those old fashioned, porcelain princess doll with innocent, lucid wide eyes, and every part of her -feet, eyes, hands- _glinted_ and sparkled in the sunlight.

The other sets of eyes, a light, calming silver- belonged to the infamous Shikra Maple. Shikra was disciplined, strict, and calm. He had silver-almost white- hair, that layered and bounced off near his shoulders. He was beautiful, in both a manly and feminine way, making him that much more intriguing.

As for D&A himself, he was a thin man, slimly built and graceful. He had dark raven hair, quite the opposite of his pale, nearly pallid skin. His eyes were a rich hazel, sparking out hints of blood red when passion got the best of him. His fingers were long, slender, soft- like a girls'. But despite his body build, he radiated manliness in some foreign way that demanded either respect or fear from his companions. He was also known for being arrogant.

The dark haired man didn't cringe under the burning glare of the two teens. Instead, he fluttered his fingers in an annoyed way. "You heard me! Shut up!"

Ira gurgled something between a whimper and a sigh as she slumped into the cushioned floor. "...Someone's PMSing..."

Shikra chuckled softly, but his eyes didn't leave D&A's face. "Why are you acting like such a girl?"

D&A remained silent, and Shikra was about to forget the whole thing when a shoe (first class, Ira noted) came flying at the silver haired teenager. Shikra easily avoided the flying object and caught it swiftly in midair.

"N...atasha?" A confused look coated Shikra's face before he stared blankly at D&A. "... You threw a 100 year old designer shoe at me." The pale faced teen merely shrugged and swung around on 'his' couch. "So... you aren't going to answer?"

"It's Raphie," yelled an unhelpful Ira, sprawled all over the ground. "He hasn't seen her for a month, and you know how possessive he is!"

Another shoe came flying through the air, and, as Ira wasn't as athletic as Shikra (or as smart, for that matter), hit the young blonde right on the nose. She sat up, traces of fury covering her entire face. "HEY, YOU PMS-ING GIRL, YOU DON'T SEE ME WHINING ABOUT MY BOYFRIEND AND SHIT! YOU JUST THREW A STUPID SHOE AT MY BEAUTIFUL FACE!"

D&A chose to ignore that comment completely.

Shikra gave a pleasant smile. "First class."

"…eh?"

"The shoe was first class."

The younger teen rapidly blinked, emerald orbs switching on and off, feeling stupid. "...Oh."

D&A sniggered.

_**"~ANSWER THE PHONE, DAMMIT!~**_"

Ira jumped ten feet in the air and let out a blood curdling scream. Nobody paid any attention to her. D&A raised his finely penciled eyebrows and gave an approving smirk toward Shikra.

"Nice Ringtone." Shikra shrugged curtly and returned his attention toward his phone, gently lifting the black flap and pressing it towards his ears. "Hello?"

"Wh-When did you ch-change the rin-ringtone?" D&A rolled his eyes and turned to glare at the young girl.

"Your fault for not paying attention to the vibrating of the phone."

"Oh yeah, everything's my fault, isn't it? That stuff scared me half to death!"

"And aren't we all so sad you didn't go to hell..."

"You'll be going there soon if you don't shut up!-"

They were interrupted by Shikra's gentle voice saying: "Yes... yes, we'll be there immediately. Mhm. Well, goodbye." He closed his phone silently, drumming against the closed cover with his pale, thick hands. Then he looked up at the two teens, a small, tired smile pressed against his face. "Go get ready. We're going out."

"Where?" The annoying and attractive teen questioned," Going out to where?"

Shikra sighed as he put the silver car keys into a pocket of his white cargo pants, trying to find a way to answer without answering. Then he looked up at D&A with a glint in his eye, like telling a private joke. "Some place to make D&A happy." He turned speedily on his heel and softly jingled the silver objects to the rhythm of his shoes.

Ira sat back, a bit dazed as she comprehended the words, her green eyes blank. Suddenly, her eyes started shining brilliantly. "WE'RE GOING TO MEET HIS GIRLFRIEND, RIGHT? RIGHT?"

Another first class shoe came flying through the air.


	3. Miracles: Joker and Butterfly

**Hiyaz. I'm back with an update.  
First off, thank you to the pacific coast who reviewed only a few seconds after I updated the second chapter, the sexy hottie bunny who always leaves me helpful and looonnnnggg reviews, thegoldenpen13 who knows how to compare things in a clever way, Nana chan who's always cheering me on (you're welcome and yes, she is), Alfa fans who left me a sweet one sentenced review right to the point, 'review number one' and 'second review so far XD' who left me long and encouraging reviews and…I think that's it. So, once again, thank you to my reviewers.  
This chapter is about one of my favorite characters- The Joker. Which means the old version of Lynn 8]  
Enjoy, lovelies!**

**Part three:** Butterfly (_Princess_) and The Joker

**Miracles**

_Somewhere in the spade country…_

"Bloody hell," a husky British-accented voice muttered through the trees. "Why do I always lose my way and crap?"

The figure ran his elegant, slim fingers through his long, visibly spiky blond hair, allowing a better view of his stunning eyes. He was tall with wide shoulders, fine muscles, and beautifully bronzed skin. His eyes were a rare shade of lavender- heavily lashed, exotic and dark.

Frustrated, he growled and winced, intensifying his dark features. His royal purple orbs darted around madly for the slightest hint of life.

What caught his eye was a doll. Or more, a woman that looked like a doll.

From the back, with her twirling black hair and pale skin, she looked like a doll- lifeless, breakable, porcelain and _perfectly balanced_. Though not at all a dainty figure- she carried an air of importance in her steps. The joker made up his mind to approach her.

"Hey-"

She twirled quickly around on her heals. His eyes widened.

Her hair- flowing down her back in chunks of even curls- weren't much of a surprise. So weren't her long, sickly pale fingers or her flawless skin. Not even those small, cherry lips or that narrow chin, or that perfect nose. No, none of those were too stunning.

It was her eyes. Her eyes were dark- not like the night sky littered with endless stars, not like the shadows seeping through the curtains on a bright day-but like a black hole, swirling with dark emotions, threatening to devour those who were brave enough to venture her soul. Even her wild eyelashes held passion and defiance in their own way.

His shock didn't wear off for a while. While everything else was so glassy, so perfect, so equally beautiful, those eyes… those wild, exotic eyes that studied him with all the air of a lead lioness did not belong there, did not belong with that cherry red mouth, did not belong with that frail figure, did not belong with such a proportional face.

And yet, while the rest of her features belonged in an extraordinary picture with the lifelessness and beauty included, those eyes were the only part of the girl that drew him in.

So much that he didn't realize he was standing there, obviously studying her with wide eyes.

Her tiny red lips curled up in a polite smile, but her eyes stayed hard, at the same time exposing numbers of passionate emotions he couldn't read. It amazed him how her face and body were one and her eyes were one. But he knew from the way she walked that it was those menacing dark pupils that held her raw emotions.

"Howdy," he whispered smoothly, fixing his glazed lilac eyes on the girl. "I'm a newcomer here. Care to tell me around?"

The girl's dark eyes trailed around his figure, taking everything around him in, but never once looking at him himself. She looked at his face, and for a second, the darkness in her eyes blazed like a black fire, ready to burn her surroundings. And just like that, her eyes returned to their normal, mysterious holes, beckoning him to come in deeper and find what were in those holes.

Yeah, like those addicting caves that made you want to go in deeper and deeper, despite the booby traps and melancholy of it all, partly for the treasure you expect to find inside and partly for the thrill. Those kind of caves where you were almost sure you were going to die.

"Where are you headed?"

Her voice was dangerous and thick, like vines possessively wrapping around a castle in a fairytale. It had a fine edge and style to it, mainly because it was so whispery and velvety. The smile in her words didn't show up in her eyes, so he figured it was fake.

He, in return, returned the smile with a fake grin of his own, exposing his brilliant, pearly white fangs. "To wherever I ought to be," he answered with fake enthusiasm. "I wouldn't be asking you if I was so sure, would I?"

She nodded with her eyes, almost forcing them to lose their life. "Yes, of course. Forgive me. Are you looking for someone?"

He flashed a charming smirk, his eyes sparkling slyly. "Mhm. Amon, your King."

Her whole body hardened immediately.

Silence.

Then: "He didn't tell me he had any visitors today."

Despite the uncomfortable silence, the Joker's smirk and confidence remained unfazed. "Miracles come in surprises."

She smiled uncertainly, her dark eyes confused, but serious. "…Right. Well in that case, i'll have to lead you there. It's a bit far from here."

He leaned casually against a nearby rock, crossing his arms solemnly over his masculine chest. "How long are we talking?"

She checked her watch, delicate curls gently brushing against her white cheek. "Two hours or so."

He raised a perfect blonde eyebrow in pretend exasperation. "I can find someone else."

Her smile hardened, almost instantly. "Thank you for worrying, but I'm fine, really. I was just going to go there myself."

The reply was a charming 'pshawww' from her newly made companion. He examined her figure skeptically before pushing himself up, back into his standard, very-bored-looking position. Smirking, he waved her fiery, passionate eyes away as well as he could. "Then lead the way, chap."

She turned away with grace and attitude, a daring combination. Nevertheless, it worked on her. Dried up orange leaves crackled under her soft boots, creating quite an interesting ruckus of sound. Behind her, - walked with something between and prowl and a stride, visually seeming like he owned the world but actually not daring to make a whisper of a sound. Even after she had gotten use to his silent treading, she frequently turned around very often to see if he was following her.

"Excuse me," she breathed halfway through the journey. "I forgot to ask for your name." Then she paused, catching her breath and seemingly admiring his walking technique. "I'm Butterfly," she added, eyeing him as softly as she could.

He jolted up, though his eyes didn't seem the least bit startled. Infact, he gave out a huge, lazy stretch, flexing his arms and twisting so that his muscles rippled underneath his rich blouse. "Oh, me?" Then he yawned, a short, fixed yawn. "I'm a miracle."


	4. Lovely stranger: Amon & ButterflyBunbun

**Had to write this. I just couldn't stand all of the LynnxButterfly/Bunbun stuff. Different people, for a change. I wasn't going to use the same character two times, but meh. Plans change, you know. This is really long, and I wrote it all in one sitting, so excuse my spelling mistakes/grammatical errors. I'm so sorry I didn't update this sooner, I was busy on vacation.  
Anyhow, the only warning I have for this is incest. That means sisterxbrother love. If you don't like it, GET THE HUCK OUT!**

**Signed with kisses~**

**Almond Luver**

**Part two:** Amon, Bunbun, and Butterfly

**Lovely stranger**

_Sing me a song, lover._

The leaves fell, agonizingly slowly, as did the soft splatters of rain on the cool grey cement. It seemed as though everything moved in slow motion, animatedly, on purpose. A young girl held a navy blue umbrella hook steadily in the tiny palms of her pale white hands. Her dark brown eyes rested on the long-raven-haired, dark-eyed, pale skinned, tall, lithe beauty of a man in front of her, who held her gaze steadily. The rain continued to fall at uneven paces on the blank scenery of unending cement next to them. The man strengthened his grip on the black object shaped to shield him from the gentle rain, his long fingers pale compared to the dark color of the item. They continued to stare deep into the others eyes, longing dark eyes meeting clueless brown ones.

_Thump thump thump._

At last, minutes later, the man spoke, voice all ice and smooth against the bitter pattering of the rain.

"**Butterfly**."

_My ancient sister resides within the House of Life,_

_Surrounded by rotting papyrus,_

_And she the only blossom._

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-_

"Amon!"

Frizzy black hair shot up from behind the counter, the owner of the name being too short to be visible. After a long moment of furious silence, the slight screeching of a chair could be heard before the frizzy black hair appeared again, along with an innocent, deathly pale face and wide black eyes. Fingers grasped the counter top, long and lean compared to the short, clumsy body they came with. The young boy stood on the chair, clutching the counter for dear life, being the perfect picture of innocence, of unending light. The boy smiled at the caller, a soft, light smile.

"Butterfly." His voice was like spoon tapped out on a glass cup with a masterful hand. It rang, delicate and soft, like pleasant streaks of sunshine.

In response, the girl, 'Butterfly', offered a smile of her own- a bit more knowing, more masterful, yet shy and kind all the same. Her hair was dark and long, pulled back into a neat braid. She was tall for her age- seven- and slim too, her body already taking a thin shape. "I was looking all over for you."

The thought of his sister being worried about him made the young boy's heart swell with pride. As if natural sisterly love was something he had created. His bright smile widened. "You were?"

She, on the other hand, frowned. Which, of course, she had a right to. She'd been looking around all day long, wearing her thin legs out in searching the whole palace numbers of times, and all her younger brother offered her was a mischevious grin? "There's nothing funny about it," she said, irritated. "I had to walk so much!"

The boy dropped his smile, not wanting to anger the older girl. "No," he replied quickly, as if ashamed. "Of course not." But deep inside he smiled. Nobody knew what he thought deep inside.

Butterfly's tone softened, as did the annoyance in her eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get mad." Then she huffed, tossing her braid to the left part of her shoulder. She looked at the position her younger brother was in, twisted up and clawing frantically at the marble counter, and walked around it, sitting on the floor. The boy wrestled himself away from the chair and slid down next to her, sitting up stiff and hard, like she did. A few moments of silence later, though, he slid back down, posture forgotten.

"Why did ya look for me?"

Butterfly turned to him, eyebrows raised. He stared back at her, then realized his mistake and sulked. "I mean, Why were you looking for me?"

She smiled, but it was a tight, small smile. He looked at it in wonder. It wasn't pretty.

A few years back, when they were five, the girl was all smiles and laughter. Amon liked that, loved that side of the girl, the knowing, mature yet sweet side. Back then her smiles were free and wild, much like herself- and they were gorgeous. The boy spent countless mornings staring at the clear reflection of himself and trying to imitate that face expression. He never got to it, as much as he tried.

But nowadays, that smile was gone. All that remained of his once cheerful sister was the deadly, hollow bones of her existence. She would sit stiffly, even when she was with him, and smile politely, never daring to let out a single un-royal word. She had turned more like a princess and less like a sister. He stared deep into her dark brown eyes and wondered if that warm gentle smile was lost forever in her.

"Well," she said, snapping him back to reality. "You skipped out on your lessons. Your teachers were looking for you."

He continued to stare. In his childish fantasies, he imagined warmth returning to her cold brown eyes. Was this really the same sister who had urged him to stop listening to the 'stupid things' the teachers taught him?

"No," he says slowly, his mouth forming the words before his brain had time to think. "I'm not going to be king here."

She looked at him, an utterly horrified look plastered on her face. "_What?"_

Amon slid away from her, grabbing the counter side to clumsily stand up. Her voice was like venom, and it stung him. "You heard me," he snapped back, with boldness he didn't know he had. He felt himself shaking and he could feel his teeth chattering from the known consequences. But there was no stopping him now. Something had woken up inside him, something filled with sadness that fueled quickly into hatred. Red seemed to fill his vision. "I'm not going to turn...like you." Her eyes widened. "You were sweet and loving. You were an idol to me. But now it's gone. You're gone. Royalty broke you and made you into something like this. So you know what I say? Royalty is _CRAP_!"

Silence.

By the time he had realized what he had just said, it was too late to clap a hand over his mouth, a habit he couldn't drop. He just watched her, a flicker of unknown emotions passing through her widened eyes. Just when she looked like she was about to kill him, she broke out crying. Wracking sobs that nearly seemed to break her into half, shudders that were full of agony and despair. Amon's thoughts were full of confusion- the cooled down hatred, the wonder as to what she was crying about, the wishing she was nice again, the hope that she would smile at him, the heartache of watching her cry. At the end, he decided to sit down and bawl next to her too. He cried when she cried and wiped her eyes when she did and laughed at himself when she laughed as she saw him copy her. Then she pulled him into a hug and whispered through her hoarse voice, "Amon, I didn't mean to seem...broken from royalty. I just wanted to set a good example for you, but I guess you didn't like that." Then she cleared her throat. "I...I tried so hard. To fit in, to be here. Heck, I was born here! I should be use to it by now. But no, whenever I looked outside I longed to be running. So I thought I should contain myself. I tried to put myself in your shoes and think of how it would be to have a dumb sister who kept breaking the rules. I wanted to change for you. But it's so hard, Amon."

He could feel her vibrate whenever she shook, and he didn't know what she was talking about. Only that she was staring at him, lovingly, and he loved it too. He thought of something he could say that related to what she had just told him. "I...I wear papa's shoes sometimes. But I can't walk in them."

She took one look at his teary, innocent eyes and cried into his hair. "Sorry... Poor thing, you must've been so lonely. I'm so sorry... I made the wrong descision... I'll-i'll be your sister again... I'm so sorry..."

A while later, through the dying sobs and drying tears, Amon managed to croak out, "Dad's shoes are very uncomfortable."

Butterfly laughed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He had messed up. He had really messed up. Messed up big. Maybe even the worst he'd ever messed up in his short, fifteen years of life. Sure, he'd made mistakes, everyone did, but none of them had ever resulted in his being stabbed before.

Amon stumbled as he ran, pale hand over his right shoulder, blood staining the black collared blouse he wore. The twenty four year old jack had pulled out a knife and rammed it into his shoulder, before he could even register what was happening. All because he was running in the dark. Running in the dark and getting stabbed by a jack who thought you were a thief. That's how fucked up the world was.

Amon had ran in the direction of his sister's room. He didn't know what else to do; he'd never been stabbed before. The only other grave injury he could remember having was three years ago when he'd almost gotten his damn hand cut off, and even that he hadn't taken care of. Butterfly had, and it'd never gotten infected once. The only reminder of its existence was a faint white line of his left wrist.

Climbing in through the window was agony. The older he got the smaller the window seemed to get, and each time he went in or out of it, it was more of a struggle. Trying to get in hurt his shoulder like hell, and he let out a strangled cry of pain. Butterfly must have heard it, for when he finally got in she was there, hair still flowing as she came to a stop, brown eyes wide and instantly alert. She was out of breath, like she'd been running, and Amon didn't doubt that she had been.

"Amon! You're bleeding! What'd you do? Where's the wound?" Butterfly rapid-fired. She approached quickly and before Amon was sure he had even processed all of that, much less came up with an answer, Butterfly had moved his bloodied hand, gentle even in her distress.

"You were stabbed?" She asked weakly, eyes reconnecting with Amon's. Her face had gone ashy and for a terrible second Amon thought she was going to faint.

"I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks," Amon responded, trying somehow to make light out of the situation.

"You got stabbed deep in the arm," Butterfly replied sarcastically. "I'm _sure_ it's not as bad as it looks."

Amon flinched, unsure of what to say or do. When he was outside, with his subjects, he was strong despite his young age, but when he was with his older sister, he turned smaller.

"Luckily, though," Butterfly said through a bright smile. "I know how to fix this!"

Amon eyed her nervously. "...Oh joy."

"Shut up, you!" The smile hardened into a scowl. "You'll have to stay in my room for the night-" She was interrupted by a snickering Amon. "I know exactly what you're thinking, young man, but that's not what I meant. You'll be screaming your head off."

"I don't doubt it," Amon replied snidely, smiling.

"You shouldn't," Butterfly snarled back, word for word. "Lay down on the windowsill bed and take off your shirt."

"I can't help but think you're going to do something to me..."

"I am. Going to kill you. Or at least pain you to death."

Amon snorted and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing a surprisingly well built, milk-white skin, currently stained with dripping blood. Wincing, he lay himself on the hard bed, where the moonlight welcomed him by bathing him in pale light. Then he turned his face and flashed his older sister a seemingly innocent look. "Please be gentle."

She tossed her long braid across her back. "We'll see. Look away. This isn't pretty."

Up until then, Amon hadn't realized what his sister was going to do to him.

When he saw the flaming knife she was holding, he was awe struck with fear. It felt as if she had already performed the horrid task on him. He felt like he couldn't breathe, like his neck was clogged off with unstoppable fire. "You're not...you're not going to..."

Butterfly smiled, pityingly, her dark brown eyes wide and sympathetic. "Sorry. Look away." And with that, she slowly lowered the flaming tip, noting the piercing black eyes that followed her every move.

When the knife hit the skin, all hell broke loose.

0000000

"Never," Amon panted, his transculent skin damp with sweat and medicine an hour after his careless operation had started. "_Never_ tell me to come to you for help."

Butterfly laughed, brushing the younger boy's hair down with her small fingers. "Never come to me for help."

"Augh." The boy covered his face with his long, big hands, talking into the wide of his palms. "That hurt like..._crap_."

"I know." She reached out and cooed the hands covering his face away, looking into his eyes with a warm, sweet smile in her own. "Naughty boy, I told you to be careful!" The moonlight made her seem sweeter, more mysterious, and sort of...

..._beautiful_.

Amon stared at her, the brightness of her eyes, the tiny, thin features and the soul smiling down at him.

Wait.

There was something else in her eyes. What was it... sorrow?

He tried to sit up, but failed miserably, squirms ending in his panting and laying back down. She looked at him inquisitvely, the hint of sorrow completely gone.

Or was it hidden behind those curious brown eyes?

"You-you l-looked u-unhappy," Amon sputtered, gasping for air and feeling blood splash around in his throat. Butterfly only stared at him, looking somewhat distant. "W-What, sad you didn't" he gulped in air "kill me?"

His sister opened her mouth to protest the ridiculous notion of her killing her own brother, but Amon took the oppurtunity to shut her up, using a weak hand to pull her head down so that he could kiss her. His tongue slid into her mouth, cool and sweet with a hint of metallic blood. She tasted the way she looked- warm and full of smiles and helpful thoughts. If she was surprised, or if she even objected, she didn't show it, for she didn't make any motion to break the kiss, only to deepen it. Infact, he was the one to break it, coughing for air. She pulled away and looked at him, eyes glazed over with thoughtfulness.

"S-sorry," he managed to gasp. "That...that was just a...sudden urge."

She looked at him, the sorrow he had spotted once again sneaking out of it's hiding place behind her other emotions and showing itself fully, twinkling in the light of the stars and the moon. "No," she muttered dreamily. "I'm going to be your wife, remember?"

And she smiled, the sorrow spreading itself all over her face.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"AMOOONNN~"

An annoyingly over exagerated cheerful voice shot through Amon's head _and_ his sleep, forcing him to wake up and pop his head out of the cocoon of a blanket he'd wrapped around himself to keep the cold coming off the floor from seeping in. He growled; Butterfly was back.

"You're still sleeping? I left three hours ago! Come on, get up lazy. I've got a surprise for you." Butterfly kicked him none too gently in the side and with another growl, Amon emerged completely from the blanket and glared at the girl standing above him.

"Well I had a long night so my sleeping in is perfectly justifiable," Amon grumbled. Butterfly smirked and leaned over, then poked him square in the forehead.

"Well _I_ had a long night too but you don't see _me_ complaining. Now come on, I have a surprise for you," Butterfly said. Amon grinned to himself as a wicked idea formed in his mind. He grabbed the other teen by the ankle and pulled her forward, causing Butterfly's smirk to transform into surprise as she fell and landed with an "Umph!" on top of Amon and the blanket. Slightly winded but certainly not giving up on his plan, Amon rolled over and climbed atop the other girl, straddling her.

"Ha! Gotcha!" He licked his lips and smiled brightly, proud of himself.

"Okay, time to get your royal self OFF me now," Butterfly instructed. She was trying to look stern but the corner of her mouth curled upward into a smile, completely ruining the look she was going for.

"But I don't want~ to~," Amon pouted, cocking his head to the side.

"Well, you've got to. I have something to show you!" She was serious this time, Amon could tell. He yawned and pressed himself up, sighing at her. "You know you're completely abusing a seventeen year old guy? It's only 6 am! You're usually the one to wake up later."

0000000

Amon almost had to run to keep up with Butterfly. She was obviously very happy for some reason- a smile was gracing her deep features. She looked like she didn't have a care in the world. Amon liked it when she was happy. And he liked it when Butterfly was this happy with _him_. Maybe he still wasn't sure what love was, but he had passed the possessive part of the test with flying colors.

What she finally showed him was a small, golden box. It wasn't decorated- just a small, shining golden box- but it was fascinating. The boy thought he could stare at it for hours on end. Butterfly's chocolate eyes twinkled in amusement as Amon watched the unmoving box in awe. "It's a music box," she explained softly, whispering into and tickling his ear, as if not wanting to disturb the moment. "If you open it, music plays. I bought it for you so...you know, maybe you can listen to it when i'm gone."

She noticed the color draining from her brother's face before she was slammed into a nearby, cream white wall. Not harshly, but slammed nevertheless. She looked up to see burning, passionate black eyes studying at her. And she saw the fear, the helplessness and hurt in them. "I-," she started, tears welling up in her eyes. "I didn't mean...i'd leave you..or i'd go anywhere. I just meant...if I.." She trailed off, unable to continue.

He pulled her into a hug, desperate, unsatisfied, hungry. _Red red red red. A hint, a foreshadowing of someone's leave_..."Promise me," he whispered, the thought of losing her suddenly horrifying him. "Promise me you won't leave me here."

She was silent for a moment, as if deciding what she should say. Then she snaked a thin arm around his broad back and gave him a tight squeeze. "... I promise."

And the two stood there, hugging each other and seeking out comfort, the golden music box completely forgotten.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"You know," Butterfly called out to the younger man tossing around pots and pans in the kitchen. "You don't have to learn how to cook."

The twenty year old boy grinned. "I know. But it's your birthday."

The girl smiled, grateful. "And you thought the black rose you gave me wasn't enough?"

"No." _Clank clank._

"How about the glass butterfly you made?"

"Nope." _Clank clank_.

"Orrrr the dance?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Look, I can come up with a billion of other presents but you'll say 'no' to all of them, right?"

"Right."

"...How about you just give me a birthday kiss?"

"_Now_ you're talking." The man appeared at the doorway with a smile on his face, his eyes shining with amusement. It was their joke, the birthday kiss.

He licked his lips sensually and leaned down to connect his mouth with Butterfly's, instantly pushing his probing tongue into the other's mouth. And then he broke it, suddenly. Instead, he kissed the corner of Butterfly's lips and then the contour of her cheek before completely pulling away.

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks." She pulled him closer and leaned on his shoulder, rocking back and forth, slowly. "You know," she whispered into the darkness of the unlighted room. "If you really _really_ love each other, you can find each other after rebirth. You, like, recognize each other."

"That sounds like those crappy stories adults tell you to get you to go to love your enemies or something."

"No, it's true!"

"You sure?"

"I swear! Tell you what, we'll meet in our afterlife! I'll be reborn exactly as I am right now, and i'll love you."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm serious!"

Amon laughed, pulling away from his childish sibling. "Sure. I'll look forward to meeting you again. For now, I think i'll cook."

Butterfly fake- sighed, trying to hide a smile. "You'll never give up, will you?"

"No."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The wind chimed in, brushing against the twenty-four year old boy's sculpture-like bare torso. He twirled his long, silky dark black hair with a pale, slim finger, chewing boredly on his bottom lip, his dark eyes half lidded. Familiar footsteps sounded through the room, followed quickly by the owner of the sound- Butterfly. She had a smirk on her face, despite the fact that she had just ran from her room all the way to his- the former king's.

"So," she said, mock-bowing. "Hello, your majesty."

He played along, his face expressionless and stony as he waved his long fingers against the current of the wind. "Leave the tea and go, my maid."

"But," his older sister said playfully, pouncing on his half-naked figure. "I'm not your maid!"

He collected the thin figure in his arms and placed her on top of him, watching her snuggle up to his chest with a small grin. She pressed her ear to the left side of his chest, listening for his heart beat, her hair falling over and tickling him. "You're the king now," she whispered, her voice velvety. "How does it feel, your majesty?"

"It feels..." he searched for the word, and came up with the only thing he felt at the moment. "...ticklish."

She laughed her special, sunny laugh, and swung her hair over her shoulder, propping herself up on him with her elbows. Then her expression softened. "We're getting married soon, huh?"

"Yeah," he whispered back. "We are."

The same sorrow he had remembered on her face nine years ago returned, forming the same smile on her older, more mature face. It was haunting. But once again, it quickly faded away, replaced by a mischevious grin.

"Sing me a song, lover. Sing me a song of our futures together."

Butterfly began idly drawing random designs on Amon's skin.

"What?"

She looked up at him, brown eyes positively sparkling with love and happiness, and she smiled and said it again.

"Sing me a song, lover. Sing me a song of our futures together."

Amon smiled and played along, telling Butterfly he couldn't sing and pouting and laughing with her.

"I love you, Amon."

He felt like his heart would burst with overflowing happiness, that he didn't deserve this, and he was afraid that if he spoke... the moment would be ruined, the fantasy would break, the dream would shatter and he'd wake up. He was speechless with joy, unable to open his mouth and reply, tell her that he too loved her to no ends. But she seemed content without an answer, continuing to snuggle into his chest and trace out circles and squares and triangles on his chest.

He, stupidly, thought that he would never have wake up.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

**"She's gone, majesty!"**

Red. Red everywhere.

_Sing me a song, lover..._

0000000

All that was left of her was her empty room and the memories of her lingering smile in his memories.

She was gone.

And he was alone. In her room, full of her scent and her posessions and...the golden box that she had given to him, but was forgotten about in the drama of that day. It was all wrong. Everything about her, _everything_, was here, would always be here.

But she wouldn't be.

"_Sing me a song lover. Sing me a song of our futures together."_

The promise was broken. There would be no singing tonight. The time for singing was over. There would be no future between the two of them. The only thing there could be was an empty room and enough madness to fill him with it. Because that's what love was, after all. That's what their love had always been. A blank, an empty room, where he was always inside the room, two steps behind her, where she had just left. It was madness for him to hope, madness for him to dream, madness for him to think that one day they could be happy together. Madness to think that they could even have a future.

It bubbled up from deep within him and stuck in his throat like a bone. It stayed there for a second or two, then Amon could hold it back no longer. He began to laugh. Small laughs at first, then his laughter become so extreme that his shoulders were shaking and the tears that ran down his face were no longer because he was crying but because he was _laughing_ and because he could not stop. It wasn't funny, it was horrible and disgusting and made him _sick_ but he couldn't stop it any more than he could bring his wife back to him.

He didn't know how long he sat there, laughing his mad, uncontrollable laughter, cradling the cold golden box in his arms. He didn't know how many times he tried to stop but couldn't. He didn't realize that his limbs turned numb and the tears on his hands and clothes and face dried. The dream had shattered. She was gone.

_Naughty boy. I told you to be careful. _

She was gone and the world was red, and it was slowly consuming him. The red was taking over, covering him in it, making him cold, making him lonely, making him want to feel Butterfly once more. The red came closer and then it was all that he could see. His sight was red again, now in both eyes instead of only one, and his Butterfly was no longer here to help him recover from his fatal injuries. She was gone.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"**Butterfly**."

_If you really, really love each other, you can find each other_...

The unending cement seemed wider, farther- they seemed to be isolated. The girl's brown eyes flashed, knowingly, softly, almost... almost happily.

"I..."

She cleared her throat, her voice hoarse from too much exposal to the cold wind surrounding her. With a furious shake of her head, her hair tossing around, she tried again.

"I... don't know who you're talking about."

The strange man with the black umbrella seemed to tense, seemed to search for something in her eyes. He made her feel uncomfortable, a mere stranger studying her as if they knew each other well. Who was he, even?

"...Ah," he replied, his voice cold and hard and stony. "Forgive me. You look alot like someone I know." With this the man gave her a final, last stare and turned, black trench coat flying behind him as he whipped around and left, dissapearing into the darkness of the rain.

There was sorrow in his eyes. She was positive, she had seen a flicker of longing and sadness in his eyes before they had dissapeared into blunt coldness.

Deciding not to pay too much attention to the stranger, she held her umbrella more closely and walked away...

...Ignorant of the figure studying her, choking with unshed tears from a steady distance away.

And words, whispered softly into her back, words he could never say in front of her, never boldly.

"I love you, Butterfly."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_Sing me a song, lover._

_Sing me a song, my starry-eyed lover._

_Sing to me of life and death._

_Sing to me of a close we almost had._

_Sing me a song my poor, ill-fated lover._


	5. The oath of a thief: Butterfly & Lynn

**I know, I know, I know. Bunbun's a sorceress, not a sorcerer. But for the effect.. it seemed a bit sexist, so to honor Bunbun, I just referred to her as 'sorcerer' throughout the story.  
Warning: Implied sex, hot people making out, bad language, a bit of angst, and- of course- blood. Also, things might not make sense if you haven't read the book.  
****So... enjoy? **

**Signed with kisses~**

**Almond Luver**

**Part five: **Bunbun, Butterfly, and Lynn

**The Oath of a Thief**

_"I doubt it's worth much, but you have my oath..."_

He'd found her, broken and bloodied, by the cliffs leading to his lair, and something about the sorcerer had compelled Lynn to take a second look. Normally it meant nothing to him- he came across dead and dying people from time to time and had no issues with ignoring them. But this one…hair darker than any sand, the clear mark of one with innate Kaa, and eyes that showed as a deep hazel when Lynn kicked her awake. She was pretty, if pretty was also bleeding and vicious-looking. An interesting combination in a woman, and Lynn found himself indulging in curiosity.

"What, I'm not dead yet?" the sorcerer muttered, voice high if hoarse, shifting on the stones and grimacing. "Damn, this is going to take a while…do me a favor and hurry it up?"

The manner of the request, if not the request itself, was somewhat startling, and Lynn found himself chuckling. "And why should I help you, mahoutsukai? Ore-sama is a thief…I do nothing for free."

"Do I look like I have anything on me?" the sorcerer snapped. "It would be the work of a second to cut my throat, asshole…"

"How did you end up like this anyway, mahoutsukai? Pissed off the wrong man?"

"Bandits, actually. Thought I'd try my hand at killing them, but they had some new sorcerer knifed into working for them…I was too busy with the dragon to fight them off properly…"

The sorcerer was starting to fall unconscious again, but Lynn's interest was piqued by her tale, and so he slung the sorcerer's body over his horse and took her into his lair. He did some perfunctory work on the sorcerer's wounds, though nothing too fancy, since he hardly planned on keeping her.

When the sorcerer woke up again her first reaction was to curse. "Damn it all, Suteku and Wepuwaweto take it…I'm still not dead?" She turned her head, and scowled at Lynn. "You, thief…what the fuck are you waiting for?"

Lynn shrugged, smirking. "I was bored, you were mildly interesting…thought I might as well get some entertainment out of you before you die, you know?"

"What, you have a fetish for fucking people who are half dead?"

Lynn laughed, the sound echoing around them in the caverns of his lair. "Hardly, though I might have fucked you if I'd found you in better health… It's your stories of bandits I want, mahoutsukai. You said they forced a sorcerer into working for them?"

The sorcerer stared at him, eyes level and hard, for a long time before speaking. "Aa. They choose young ones, weak ones…sorcerers who aren't trained well. Beat them badly enough to bring the Kaa out and then keep a knife to their throat so they won't turn the Kaa on them. Usually they kill the sorcerers before they can get enough control to be a danger to them. Works surprisingly well."

"Disgusting," Lynn said with a snarl. Maybe he'd do this sorcerer a favor and finish off her job with them.

The sorcerer raised a brow. "What, you have morals?"

"Here and there." Lynn's eyes narrowed. "The only law of magic Ore-sama follows- if you're going to profit off pain, make sure it's your own."

"A surprisingly good one, especially considering the source. The priests could do with following your law."

"Rulers care more about the kingdom than the people, mahoutsukai. Don't you know that?"

The sorcerer shifted, otherwise silent, before finally answering. "I do. Well, thief, is there anything else you want?"

"Entertainment, like I said. I _am_ in the middle of nowhere with only a horse for company, after all."

"I should have tried to kill myself before you came along, shouldn't I?" the sorcerer asked. "I was having some trouble finding a way to do it without a weapon…perhaps I could just make my Kaa slit my throat."

"I've heard that having it around while you die can be messy," Lynn warned her. "I remember a sorcerer down in Kush…he ended up with the rest of his soul bound into his Kaa that way, got stuck as a monstrous scorpion. May be more worthwhile if your Kaa is pretty, but…" Lynn shrugged.

The sorcerer sighed. "I suppose dying would be better. Maybe I'd see Obba-nim again…" she trailed off, and soon fell unconscious again.

Lynn tried to get some work done with the newest magic scrolls he'd stolen and sent to his lair, but the sorcerer's body drew his eyes, as if her wounded body were a blemish needing to be fixed. She was pretty enough and decent company, but the indecision was aggravating.

When the sorcerer woke again she cursed Lynn. Her vocabulary was really quite inventive…was that even a language from Kemet just then? When her invective died down she spat on the stone floor. "You're a fucking bastard, you know that? What will it take to make you get it over with and kill me?"

"Feel free to make a suggestion, mahoutsukai."

The sorcerer snorted. "It's Butterfly, bastard."

"Lynn."

Butterfly's eyes ran over him, narrowing slightly. "I've never heard of a name like that…"

"A meaningless name. Us thieves are never popular."

Butterfly nodded. "I always thought that my father would have claimed I wasn't his if it wouldn't require him accusing my mother of adultery as well."

Lynn cocked his head, and found himself offering some personal information. "Ore-sama's village was one of thieves- they had no problem labeling Ore-sama a bastard and Haha-ue a whore when Oyakata-sama refused to claim us."

"And yet you're a sorcerer…probably better than all of them," Butterfly said, voice hard but matter of fact.

"Aa. They always regret treating demon children the way they do, one way or another."

"Mhm…" the sorcerer turned her head, staring at the far wall. "The priests say that powerful Kaa is a gift from the gods. What do you think? I'd say either it's bull or the gods really think humans are evil."

Lynn stared, trying to interpret Butterfly's voice and expression, but her face was blank, and her voice the same as ever- a criminal's confidence. "In the end? I'd say they just know what we are. Humans are capable of many other things, but the parts of us capable of the most destructive force are always our negative emotions. You hate, don't you? The sorcerer who hates without holding anything back is always the most powerful. Even innate Kaa can only make up for it somewhat."

"Hmm. Our evil is the strongest, then?"

"The most powerful forces in this kingdom were created by murder and torture." Lynn turned away as he felt the stirrings of Heka, his temper rising.

"Were you tortured, then?" The sorcerer's voice was serious again, as it had been when speaking of seeing her siblings in death.

Lynn's Heka flared up in response, and he snapped back, "Well, what about you, mahoutsukai? You say you have access to your Kaa, and I can tell that you're powerful and used to using that power, even as you lie dying before Ore-sama." He rose, sweeping over to the sorcerer and standing over her. "If I can recognize your power even as you lie here mercy to Ore-sama's every whim…" he laughed darkly. "I could do anything to you, mahoutsukai, and you couldn't fight Ore-sama off."

Butterfly had grown tense, eyes narrowed and teeth bared, and now Lynn felt the stirrings of her Kaa, the screaming of a bird of prey… "Do not…don't even think about it, Lynn. Kill me, leave me to die…but I will not stand for being _used_ by you. Try it and I'll be sure to rip you to pieces, even if I don't get my chance in this lifetime."

"Oh?" Lynn raised his brows. "Used, you say? Hmm…it was those bandits, wasn't it? You were their tool before you grew strong enough to escape them. Seems you've been used quite a lot, mahoutsukai. What's one more time?"

Butterfly trembled, snarling, and the bird screamed, before springing forth and striking at Lynn, slashing his chest with its claws as it swept past him. In response Lynn brought forth his tiger, throwing the bird back to the wall of the lair, and the bird trilled, vanishing before he could even get a good look at it. He glared down at Butterfly, ready to insult her again, but snorted and turned away when he saw that the sorcerer had fallen unconscious again.

He paced for most of the day, temper rising again whenever he looked back down on the sorcerer. He really should have just killed her, shouldn't he? Instead he'd taken the ingrate in for entertainment, and every damned word out of the sorcerer's mouth pissed him off but also lessened his willingness to kill her. Butterfly was a hate-filled, arrogant bitch, and the most like-minded person Lynn had ever met. She really _was_ proving entertaining.

Damned sorcerer…finally Lynn gave in and looked at her wounds again, putting some real effort into cleaning them, and after some consideration covered them with acacia and sycamore leaves before wrapping them in new bandages. She was a bit feverish but nothing too serious, so Lynn returned to his studying for a time.

"What, still alive?" Butterfly's voice was somewhat groggy when she next awoke, but just as annoyed. "Do you regularly take people in and watch them die? You have a fucked up sense of entertainment."

"Ask something intelligent and I might answer, mahoutsukai," Lynn said, not bothering to look up from his reading.

He heard movements, the shifting of a body, and then Butterfly's voice. "Why did you do this?"

"It doesn't matter. Or are you so determined to die that you won't accept a way out?"

Butterfly snorted. "I'm wondering what ulterior motive you have, Lynn. Or are you going to tell me you've had a sudden altruistic inspiration?"

"Hardly."

Things continued in that vein for two more days, with Lynn checking up on Butterfly's state every once in a while and the sorcerer complaining and insulting him whenever she was awake and had the energy. There was an edge of wariness behind her insults, though- probably afraid of what Lynn was trying to keep her alive for.

"You know that if I recover I'll be a match for you? You won't get much _use_ out of a sorcerer who can face you equally," Butterfly said, sneering.

Lynn growled. "Would you shut up, mahoutsukai? I don't have any plans to use you, you ass!"

"Then why? I know you're not doing this just to help me. What are you planning on getting out if it?"

"Nothing, idiot. You're entertaining and I decided it would be a waste to sit around and watch you die."

Butterfly looked up at him, eyes narrowing for a moment before she smirked. "What, that boring out here? Or maybe you _do_ want to fuck me- can't be any other available bodies around."

Lynn rolled his eyes. "Opium. Take it, and stop exposing Ore-sama to your idiocy."

Butterfly ate and drank sparingly, unable to keep much down, and though Lynn would never say anything it worried him. It was only a few hours later that he finally decided to look into the sorcerer's Baa and see if he could do anything from there. It looked healthy for a moment, relatively uninterrupted silver…before with a shudder Lynn realized that it was growing distant from Butterfly's body.

Leaving his exploration of Butterfly's soul and returning to physical awareness, Lynn's ears roared, and he dimly acknowledged the hollow feeling in his stomach. Just as he decided to keep her around the sorcerer had to go and die? Growing faint with rage, Lynn clenched his fists. The pain as his nails scraped along his skin, drawing blood, brought him back to awareness a little, enough so that he heard Butterfly.

"Are you angry because I'm going to die or because I'm going to live, Lynn?" The sorcerer asked, sounding almost dryly amused.

Lynn snarled. "This isn't some _joke_, mahoutsukai!"

"I never said it was," Bunbun said, eyes blank and her expression level. "You're the one who made entertainment out of my situation."

"You think it's been entertaining for Ore-sama, doing healer's work? Dropping everything for-" He broke off, muttering curses, poisonous as the Heka that was surrounding him.

Bunbun watched him, gaze still blank, as he paced about his lair, kicking down piles of treasures and burning some of the uglier pieces with his Heka. Her eyes followed Lynn everywhere, though she said nothing, gave away not a hint of what she was feeling. She was better at hiding emotions, Lynn thought distantly, with the small part of him not focused on raging. Arrogance was the only front Lynn was capable of when he needed to hide his true feelings.

Wasn't she _afraid_ of dying? She was a thief like Lynn, would probably end up in Ammeto's jaws if she didn't find a way to escape an honest judgment. And yet she asked for death, waited for it, as if she expected something _good_ to come of it. Idiot.

It was hours later when Butterfly spoke again, when Lynn's rage had fallen to simmering, low at the moment but gathering strength to flare out again. "You wanted to save me, didn't you, Lynn?"

Lynn said nothing, but didn't deny it. Apparently that was good enough for Butterfly, who caught his eyes, emotion entering her face and eyes again though Lynn couldn't read them. "When I realized what you were doing…I thought that if you saved me I'd give myself to you. You could have me. I don't have much else to go for, and I owe you, don't I? But you can have me anyway, even though you can't save me."

Now confusion ran through Lynn, and he covered it with arrogance. "I thought you'd kill Ore-sama if I tried to use you, mahoutsukai. Why the change of heart?"

Butterfly snorted in disgust. "I'm not talking about that, idiot. I'm _giving_ myself to you."

Lynn raised a brow. "There's a difference?" he asked, making the disdain in his voice evident.

"Fucking idiot, yes! It's choice, it's will…" Butterfly's expression grew distant. "I doubt it's worth much, but you have my oath."

"Oath…" Lynn's eyes widened, and again felt the unpleasant sensation of his ears roaring. The sorcerer couldn't _possibly_ be serious… "What sort of idiot are you, to think you can do that?" he snapped. "To think that you have the _right_ to do that? Don't you know that the oath of a thief means nothing?"

"No."

Lynn had to wonder what the fuck Butterfly had learnt as a child, to do this. _He_ had grown up in a village of thieves, taught their ways and what was denied them from birth, and wasn't idiot enough to believe in this. Oaths…swearing yourself to someone was for nobles, priests, the Pharaoh even. No one gave a damn about the oaths of people like tomb robbers, and no tomb robber gave enough of a damn to make something as idiotic as an oath like that.

And yet he was sworn to gain revenge for his people…but even so, he didn't expect the gods or anyone else to honor it! He knew that if he wanted to survive for long enough, continue on if he failed in this lifetime, then he'd need to preserve himself and return through his own powers.

"If my oath isn't honored then I'll _make_ it happen," Butterfly said suddenly. "It's _my_ promise and the rest of them can go hang- I'll keep it if I have to get Anguha to set the gods who touch me on fire."

And Lynn had to laugh, amused and a bit hysterical. "Now you're making more sense, mahoutsukai. You were starting to sound like some idiotic priest for a moment there."

"Should I be insulted?" Butterfly asked, her voice containing a small hint of a drawl.

"What do you think?"

"That it's probably the largest insult you've dealt me since we met," Butterfly replied, and now amusement was evident in her voice.

Lynn didn't say anything else, hardly in the mood for joking. Energy deserting him, he swept over to Butterfly's side and sat by her, looking down at the sorcerer…_his_ sorcerer's face, emotions and rage and something he had no name for, perhaps desire, settling to a slow burn in him. He examined Butterfly's features, pretty hair and eyes and lean body. He focused on the thought that Butterfly was _his_, the reality of it, and was distantly surprised to find his throat aching.

A thought came to him, a memory of a magical experiment with his innate talent long past… The spirit's appearance took after a person's appearance upon separation from the body- if Butterfly was left like this her spirit might be stuck looking this way, covered in now useless bandages and only an old kilt, forever.

Though he was reluctant to move from his place, he forced himself to rise and go digging through his treasures. Better kilt, a hazel robe like his sorcerer's eyes which, unlike his, would cut off at the elbows and knees…earrings, collar, arm bands…they'd suit Butterfly's looks.

He returned to Butterfly's side, placing them down and pulling her to a sitting position. "You don't want to look like _that_ for the rest of your existence, do you?"

Butterfly's skin was hotter than ever, and perhaps the fever had begun to grow too high for even a sorcerer to stay fully sober in; she didn't bother responding, and her eyes were slightly glazed, though she glared well enough. But she seemed to like the clothing and jewelry, nodding over them and muttering, "Well, at least you have good taste…"

As she helped her dress Lynn removed the bandages on some of the lesser wounds, but the one on her stomach bore covering- a raw mass of flesh which he'd only been able to stitch roughly, and which had probably led to the worst of Butterfly's illness.

Butterfly looked used to the riches in a way that Lynn hadn't when first trying on his new riches as a child thief using the tiger's skills. For a moment Lynn's eyes narrowed, wondering at Butterfly's original rank, but he shoved the thought aside as unimportant a moment later. Maybe it _could_ have been, but as it was…

His throat, damn it all, was tight again, had been for ages, and only grew worse. He let out a shuddering breath and finally lay down by Butterfly, exhausted. But he couldn't sleep, instead staring at her, not sure if he was waiting or trying to silently will Butterfly to live.

For a time Butterfly dozed, her body sometimes growing so still that Lynn would have to lean over her to check, feeling Butterfly's breath on his cheek. It didn't take long for him to grow sick of the nagging fear and its flow and ebb, so he finally remained there, lying over Butterfly with their foreheads pressed together.

When Butterfly opened her eyes again Lynn saw little but dark hazel, even more hazed by fever now. "Lynn…" Butterfly's voice was hoarse now, little more than a murmur. "What, scared of killing me?"

Lynn opened his mouth to protest the ridiculous notion of the Thief King being afraid of killing, but Butterfly took the opportunity to shut him up, using a weak hand to pull Lynn's head down so that she could kiss him. Her tongue slid into Lynn's mouth, hot and tasting of opium, and Lynn was surprised by how that much aroused him. But maybe he shouldn't be…it made sense, given how much Butterfly was like him.

Their kiss grew more vicious, teeth clashing and tongues twining, as if they were trying to get all the energy that _could_ have one day been put into fucking in this one exchange. Butterfly was dying, but she felt alive under Lynn, arms slipping under his robe and scratching his back, kissing him with all the rage and desire she was capable of. And in the face of that Lynn could do nothing but respond in kind, biting Butterfly's tongue as he thought of the idiot sorcerer's death, placing a knee between her legs and pressing down _hard_ as he thought of being left unfulfilled like this… He probably kissed like someone about to die as well.

He would have bitten Butterfly in other places if he'd had the will to pull away from their current exchange, and he had a feeling that Butterfly knew that…if she wasn't too far gone to know anything anymore, and the thought of _that_ had him pulling one of Butterfly's arms away from him and grabbing hold of a hand, squeezing almost tightly enough to break bones.

When finally both were exhausted enough to end the kiss, Butterfly's breath was short, and Lynn doubted it was just from exertion. Her gasps were too shallow, too quiet. Their eyes met, Butterfly's blank brown, and Lynn saw that she _was_ too far gone now- there was no recognition in them, and her forehead was burning like the desert in the day. They disturbed him in ways he couldn't say, but he continued to look into them, holding the blank gaze until Butterfly's breathing stopped and long after, focusing on them and thinking of nothing, not death and not life and not oaths…

Lynn felt almost blank with fever himself, rage and something he hadn't felt since that day which had defined his life…sorrow. Finally he closed his eyes and let himself rest, allowing himself a few moments of weakness as he never did in this life _after_. His eyes were wet and he didn't try to stop it, let it continue until he could bear no more and slept.

When Lynn rose again he had returned to himself, but tempered, steeled again, and with a new oath of his own. He gave himself a short glance at Butterfly's body before burning it with his Heka, sorrow and the rest of the emotions walled behind a tomb. He didn't allow himself it, because it was mad and screaming and insane and _new_ in a way which would only hurt his quests- he would only be able to use it without abandoning his sanity after a far greater time tending it, allowing it to simmer and burn.

He carved a shenu bearing Butterfly's name in the spot where Butterfly's body had lain, the emotions concerning his sorcerer walled up too tightly for him to even know exactly why. And then he left, embarking on his quests, the old oath and the new one burning in him.

As he'd promised himself, he found the bandits and killed them.

His own soul he placed within the dungeons, hiding, waiting for a chance to break free and again try to take his vengeance.

Trapped within the stone walls of the dungeon and his mind, he paced and planned…and occasionally he thought to wonder how Butterfly would fulfill her own promise. And so the years passed, until eventually the dungeon was moved from its slot in the Tablet of the Underworld…

This time _he_ had been found by the sorcerer, a tomb robber now, not as good as Lynn but definitely the best thief he'd ever seen after himself. She'd stolen into the chamber, past the keeper, there and gone, running off with the Sennen Ring before she'd ever noticed a breach. All the while Lynn felt her presence…his sorcerer, Butterfly…and laughed from within the stone chambers of his mind, knowing that their game would begin anew.

As he'd known she would, the sorcerer placed the tauk around her neck, cursing and trying to remove it when Lynn's laughter sounded in her mind. But it was useless- she wasn't the first to try to fight the power of the dungeon and she wouldn't be the last.

Finally she collapsed, and Lynn slipped into her mind. An opulent tomb, but full of rot…it suited her. Even more so when a trap sprung, arrows just missing him as he dodged. "It's no good, mahoutsukai," he called out, amused. "You can't fight Ore-sama…well, you can, but you can't win."

"Who are you?" Butterfly's voice rang through the rooms of the tomb, echoing so that her location couldn't be determined easily.

"Lynn. King of Thieves…remember?"

"Red robe, white hair, purple eyes…you're the thief they talk about. The one who locked himself in the dungeons."

"Oh? So it hasn't been as long as I'd thought. And here I was thinking I'd have to wait multiple lifetimes to be found…still, you took your time in coming, _Butterfly_."

It was the first time he'd bothered using the sorcerer's name, but it was worth the reaction he got. Butterfly's Kaa swept out, wild cat's claws prickling Lynn's throat, and the sorcerer followed, stepping out from behind a statue and surveying him with narrowed eyes. She looked similar to how she had when she'd last lived.

Her gaze was like before, eyes so deep that they could give the impression of being blank, emotionless. It was the rest of her face that gave her away- wary and interested. Fitting. "Lynn, how is it that you know my name?"

"You told me, of course," Lynn said, smirking.

Butterfly snorted. "You died before I was even born, _Ou-sama_. I've never told you anything."

Lynn glared for a moment, annoyed at hearing his old name for his enemy directed at himself. "Ah, but you did, mahoutsukai. Certainly I never would have bothered asking your name…"

"If I'm of so little consequence to you then why are you wasting time invading my mind?"

"Eh? I never said you were of little consequence to Ore-sama…you should try listening, mahoutsukai." The claws broke the skin, and Lynn grimaced. "Fine, fine…we met in your past life."

The claws moved back slightly, and Butterfly frowned at him. "Past life, you say? But I'm a thief- why would the gods bother sending me back to earth when they could send me to Ammeto's jaws?"

Lynn shrugged. "Who knows… I suppose the gods will honor even the oath of a thief. Why else you'd be reincarnated so easily I don't know."

Finally the bird released him, though it still hovered behind him, a silent but warning presence. Lynn rolled his head, testing out the cuts on his neck while he watched the sorcerer. Butterfly leaned back against the statue, crossing her arms and thinking. "Well, you are interesting, Lynn, I'll give you that. Perhaps you'll be worth keeping around for a while."

"Keep Ore-sama around?" Lynn repeated. "Well, if that's how you view it…You'll find quickly that it's not _your_ will that matters, but the will of the Items…and of Ore-sama."

And Butterfly did try removing the tauk, more times than she suspected either of them could count. Each time Lynn returned, spelling the tauk back around Butterfly's neck regardless of the distance, and the smirk and sex the sorcerer greeted him with made it clear that it was all a game to her.

They stole together for over a decade, Lynn lending Heka in lieu of more physical aid. But Butterfly was only mortal, and one night when Lynn again returned the Ring to its place around her neck, he found Butterfly dying, a poison laced arrow having grazed her during a job.

"Ah, so I'm not dead yet," she muttered as she saw Lynn's spirit form hovering over her.

Lynn snarled, ignoring the idiot and inspecting her Baa for anything that could be done for her. Damn…nothing. The poison was too far along- _maybe_ if he'd still had the old medicines from his lair and a fucking body he could have done something, but…

He spun away, cursing. "Idiot mahoutsukai! You couldn't have drained out some of the poison before it got into your blood so far?"

"I was rather busy fleeing the guards," Butterfly snapped. "I might have been able to defeat the sorcerers they had with them…but it would have taken long enough that it would have been moot- I'd have ended up poisoned and dying either way, _Ou-sama_."

Lynn's Heka swept about them, a poison-laced mist. Wasn't two lifetimes of seeing the sorcerer die before him enough?

_I can save her for you_, a voice whispered, the sound licking around him and through his Heka. It sounded…disturbingly like his own.

Lynn stilled. "What?"

_I can save her, and then you can keep your sorcerer for as long as you like…all you'll have to do is fight for Ore-sama, and Ore-sama's fight is yours…_

He shuddered, some part of him remembering. "You think I'm that stupid? You'd take her for yourself, twist her desires to yours, and I'm not standing for that. If mahoutsukai is anyone she's Ore-sama's- I'm not letting _you_ touch her even to save her!"

"Lynn, who the fuck are you talking to? I'm the one poisoned and delirious here, not you," Butterfly snapped, her voice breaking through the haze.

Lynn shook his head, trying to clear his mind and figure out just what that damned voice had been. But it eluded him, though he was sure he should know…

"Dying here? Do you think you could spare a second to finish the job? I feel like shit," Butterfly said, and her voice _was_ weakening.

Turning back to her, Lynn felt true panic. Butterfly's breathing was shallow, and she was clearly struggling for the limited control over her body that she had. Even so she was starting to spasm. Lynn sighed and entered her mind, dragging Butterfly with him so that they stood in the rotting tomb that represented her heart.

He took hold of Butterfly's arms and shoved her against the sarcophagus, then brought his mouth to the sorcerer's. Their teeth clinked together in a vicious kiss, and though it was only in the realm of the mind, the blood that formed in their mouths felt real enough. But it also felt healthy…not infected with poison as he knew Butterfly's real blood was.

Finally he ended the kiss, resting his forehead against Butterfly's and glaring into her eyes. Butterfly stared back, gaze blank…a sure sign that she was terrified, really. Lynn shifted his head a little and spat the blood out, watching how it stained the floor of the tomb as if it were real.

"I said you could have me, didn't I?" Butterfly murmured. "Even if you didn't save me, I'd be yours…it's still true. So, another twenty years or so?"

Lynn shuddered, throat tight, but he still smirked. "I'll kick your ass as usual, mahoutsukai. Count on it."

And with that he swept away, leaving the chambers of Butterfly's mind and locating her Baa. All it took was a few twists with his Heka to stop Butterfly's vitals, and as Butterfly's soul left her body, Lynn was forced back into the dungeons of the tauk, condemned to wait again.

And though the waits sometimes felt unbearable, he met Butterfly again and again through the years. Once a noblewoman, once a priest, sometimes even a prostitute…but she did tend towards tomb robbing still, most of her lifetimes featuring _their_ profession. With Butterfly Lynn saw Kemet's fate turning, witnessed its fall to Greece and the Greek's Egypt fall to Rome in turn.

It was strange, though, for as the centuries passed by he noticed a significant decrease in magic, though Butterfly was as powerful as always. But with the beginnings of Christianity those with innate Kaa were hunted more than ever, so many dying as youths before ever gaining a hold on their powers. Magic grew weaker…and Butterfly stopped returning to him.

Trapped in the tauk, Lynn's perception of time was terrible, but he knew enough to recognize when he had missed one of Butterfly's lifetimes…and then another and a third. He never knew what was holding Butterfly's soul from him, and though he contemplated the problem, even turning to the dark powers of the dungeon for answers, he slowly went mad in the isolation.

Memories eroded, till all that was left was the quest for revenge.

He let the tiger take control again, slowly inching towards his final goal…it was all that existed to him, really, until one day he ran in front of some idiot on a bicycle, the tauk having alerted him to the presence of a missed one, and saw _her_.

"What is this?" the sorcerer asked, light voice vaguely familiar, as she dropped her bicycle.

Lynn cocked his head, looking the woman over in interest. "So you're the one I've been sensing…hopefully you'll be less annoying than the last sorcerer I stole from."

The girl gave him a puzzled look. "I suppose not."

And that was how their alliance started.

Dead for longer than he could remember and completely devoted to his goal, Lynn had thought that he'd abandoned the desires of the flesh…but he found that he wanted the sorcerer a great deal. She'd be entertaining, and she wouldn't mind a bit of blood…

But he shoved the thought back, unwilling to waste time on it, and set to outlining a plan with Bunbun. It was decent, though a sight more convoluted than anything Lynn would have devised. Still, good enough, and he could always intervene if Bunbun fucked things up…

Which she did. And he, of course, intervened by taking her place.

"Lynn, you idiot! Why didn't you just kill me? You should just've gotten it over with!"

The words were familiar, strikingly so, and Lynn's eyes widened as memory returned to him, the witnessing of death after death and a seemingly eternal struggle for power between them which didn't even matter… "_Butterfly_…" he murmured, shock and relief and frustration and elation coursing through him…

"What? You're about to die, Lynn- now isn't the time to start acting like an idiot," Bunbun said, tear-filled eyes narrowing.

Lynn had to laugh- how many times had he said just that to Butterfly? Barely in this world anymore, he suddenly felt more attached to it than ever, and once again amusement coursed through him as he tried and failed to encompass all of the years in his thoughts during the short time he had left.

And maybe he'd forget and be driven mad again, but he _knew_ now, the turns of life and death and how little it all really mattered in the end. He was Butterfly's and Butterfly was his, and tomb robbers and murderers though they were, even their oaths would be honored.

So as he watched Bunbun crying by the flames of his Kaa, and felt his own body being devoured by darkness, he could still laugh, smirking over at his sorcerer. "Apparently it's going to be a while…Don't cry for Ore-sama, all right? I'd like to be able to kick your ass again when I return, you know."

For a moment, though he doubted that Bunbun truly remembered, there was a flash of recognition in his sorcerer's eyes, and an answering nod was the last thing he saw before his body and soul vanished into the darkness.


End file.
